“Ah, Marco, Marco, I have looked for you everywhere,” she stammered in confusion, taking him by the hand.
“What is the matter?” he asked, a little surprised, scrutinising her face.
Still leading him by the hand she made him cross the ante-room, the drawing-room, the little drawing-room, and the study, and did not stop till she was with him in the bedroom with its closed green shutters, whence entered the perfumes from a very tiny conservatory. Once within, she closed the door with a tired gesture. They were alone. She fixed him with her eyes right into his, placing her two hands on his shoulders, dominating him with her height. And to him never had her face seemed so beautiful and so ardent.
“I love you,” he said with tender sweetness.
“You mustn’t say it so. Better, better. Do you love me?”
“As once upon a time, you must say, _as once upon a time_.”
“I love you, Maria,” he replied, still more disturbed.
“Do you love me as at first? Reply without hesitating, without thinking--as at first?”
Regarding him, scorching him with her glance, with the pressure of her white and firm hands on his shoulders, she subjugated him.
Already the youthful blood of Marco Fiore coursed in his veins, and the giddiness of passion, which for some time had not overcome his soul, mastered him.
“As at first,” he murmured, in a subdued voice.
“It is true you don’t want to lose me. Say it! Say it!”
“Oh, Marco!” she sighed, letting her face fall on his breast, yielding to an emotion which was too violent.
He had become very pale. His eyebrows were knotted in sad thought. He took her face, covered with tears, and wiped it with his handkerchief, and asked her with a voice, where already suspicion was pressing, and where jealousy was hissing insidiously--
“Oh, I can’t, I can’t,” she said desperately.
“Tell me all at once,” he rejoined in angry impatience.
“No, no, Marco, it is nothing. I am mad this morning.”
“That is impossible. You were calm and serene yesterday evening. There is something. There is _somebody_. Whom have you seen this morning?”
The question was so precise and abrupt that the woman of truth hesitated, and dared no longer be silent.
“Ah!” he exclaimed, twisting his moustaches; “did you see him here?”